It’s a stunning dress. It compliments my curves and hides the imperfections I was taught to hate.
“Married?Again?” Cassandra’s eyes almost pop out of her head, while I sneak off camera to peel the purple, floor-length gown off my body. Shimmying into the tight fitted, cleavage inducing, black dress, I zip it up on the side.
“Yeah, again,” I shout back, slipping on a pair of red bottom, strapless heels. Wincing, I force the needle of my giant silver hoops to pierce through my almost-closed earring holes and apply a bright red lip that I almost wipe off just as quickly.
It’s okay to not always blend in,I remind myself with a shake of my head.
The red stays.
My ash blonde hair is upsohigh and pulledsotight, I’ll no doubt have a headache by the time the night is over. But that’s future Jenna's problem.
Tonight is about networking: meeting my new colleagues, letting my hair down—figuratively, of course — while drinking expensive vodka that I would usually steer clear of.
“Jennifer Rogers, you absolute smoke show!” Cassandra whistles with a grin spread wide across her face. “That is definitely the dress! Wingrove, don’t you think?” Harley, her boyfriend, pops over her shoulder with the same reaction.
“Go get ‘em Rogers,” he tells me, disappearing quickly, and I chuckle to myself at the way they’ve just made me blush. My best friend knows I don’t enjoy compliments at the best of times. They make me feel uncomfortable. But, internally, my mood always shifts when anyone praises me.
I’m just not used to compliments, so the pep in my step happens on the inside.
“Go get who?” I call out to him, only for his head to pop back into view. His eyes aren’t on me, though. They’re on a screen that I can’t see, presumably watching a sports game.
“I don’t know. Anyone. Just…someone,please. I’m the only dude in this group and believe it or not, I don’t love hearing constant gossip or watching bad reality TV about couplesstrandedin an expensive villa.” He rolls his eyes and Cassandra giggles, shooing him away.
Harley and Cassandra got together almost exactly a year ago, after her relationship with her ex went bust. The reason I know it’s been exactly a year is because tomorrow is their anniversary, and he’s planned a whole secret wedding for her as a surprise.
Just how she always wanted.
My bag is already packed and ready to go by my front door. All I have to do is remember my charger and toothbrush before I catch my flight first thing in the morning.
“Are you excited to be in Grangewood Creek in three weeks?” she asks me as I check my appearance one last time, unfortunately deciding that she’s right. Thisisthe dress.
I just hate that it’s a constant reminder of my mom, and all the men she’s chosen to love, while I sat idly by waiting for her to love me, too.
There are three things in this world that my momchooses: alcohol, men, and then me.
Mostly in that order, with numbers one and two alternating frequently.
It’s why her relationships never last.
Men marry her, thinking she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to them, and for a while, she is. But eventually they realize that her love for booze is stronger than anything she could ever feel for them.
Or me.
But I’ve grown used to it. It doesn’t affect me in the way that it used to.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“Am I excited to do the whole small town living thing? No, not really,” I admit with a shake of my head. I love California and the life I live way too much to be away from it for three months. “But am I happy that I get to seeyouwhenever I want?” I almost squeal. “You bet your sweet ass I am! I’m so fucking excited! I’ve hated not being as close to you as we were, just threesong lengths away.” I huff, shoving all the necessary items into my tiny clutch before clipping it closed. “Not only do we get to beonesong length apart for three whole months, our Thursday night catch-ups can finally be done in person, instead of FaceTime.” I chuckle lightly. Ever since she moved back home to Grangewood Creek, she and I haven’t missed a single Thursday. Not even when she and Harley first got together. He understood very quickly that we were each others platonic soulmates in this life, and has never once tried to come between us.
“And, I get to work on set for my dream job!” I try to sound enthusiastic about it, I do, but she can read me like a book. She can see that I’m putting it on, but she knows better than to push.
Ever since I was a kid, I would daydream about working on a movie set, but never in front of the camera. Not because I didn’t have the face for it, but because I just never liked that much attention on myself.
A room full of people staring at you, waiting for you to fuck up, and an arrogant man calling you out on it?
Hard pass for me.
But when my dad died and we could no longer afford our home, Becky and I were forced to move into a trailer park, and all of my dad’s life insurance money went to alcohol. My mom became a drunk not long after his death, and the options for schooling became limited. I did the best that I could with the cards I was dealt.
